


Your Broken Pieces (Left My Heart Bleeding)

by Shiyumi_Neruka



Category: Alternate Universe - Dangan Ronpa Fusion - Fandom, Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Not overly romantic but can be shippy??, Will add more characters later - Freeform, might add more relationships later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-07-20 15:45:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16140410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shiyumi_Neruka/pseuds/Shiyumi_Neruka
Summary: Follow the students of Yumenosaki Academy as they struggle to protect their loved ones after they are thrown into a situation where their lives are at stake.When death rips a person’s loved ones from their grasp, suffering always follows. The profound pain it brings can make or break a person, as well as strengthen the bonds they share with those who remain by their side.A collection of behind the scenes stories, inspired by Quella’s Dangan Ronpa AU. (Spoilers if you haven’t already read/caught up with this simultaneously amazing and heartbreaking piece of work!)





	1. Flickering Flames of Justice Burn On

**Author's Note:**

  * For [quellaa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/quellaa/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Danganronpa ES: The End of Yumenosaki Academy](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14304009) by [quellaa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/quellaa/pseuds/quellaa). 



> As I mentioned earlier, these stories are based off Quella’s Dangan Ronpa AU fic! It’s very emotional and there’s a lot of tension and clever twists and turns. Please check it out, and a huge thank you to Quella for writing it and getting me inspired! :D
> 
> This is my first enstars fic and I mainly wrote Houseki no Kuni fics before this, so I hope I've characterised the boys well enough ;w; 
> 
> (Also, I haven't spellchecked yet so please excuse any grammar/spelling mistakes!)

Indistinct murmurs and different variations of sound seem to resonate through what sounds like a spacious, yet enclosed area. Vibrations seem to be travelling across what is presumably the floor, the occasional thump contributing to a dissonant collection of sound. 

A dark curtain of some sort appears to keep slipping shut before Morisawa Chiaki’s eyes, like a pause button involuntarily interrupting his every attempt to fully register what’s happening. Each eyeful of searing light flooding his vision does him no favours in telling him just where in the world he’s woken up in, nor what in the world he has woken up to. 

Once the curtain that was his eyelids stopped slipping shut to signal the beginning of a new bout of unbearably bright light, Chiaki rubs his bleary eyes and presses his hands against what he vaguely realises must be the floor beneath him, judging from the familiar sensation of Yumenosaki academy’s gymnasium floor under his hands. 

He was somehow at school despite…having just graduated? But just how did he get here? What was he doing before this? 

Despite the myriad of questions racing through his thoughts in a frenzy, he pushes himself upright into a sitting position, the glare of fluorescent lights illuminating the figures of his fellow students, who’re wearing the signature Yumenosaki uniform. They’re sitting up, most rubbing their eyes blearily and mumbling incoherently.

Confusion fills him as he racks his brain in an attempt to figure out just why so many students were gathered here, waking up in the gym. His head protests, sending vague pulses of pain through it, and he raises his hands to rub his aching temples. 

“…Chiaki?”

Chiaki rapidly whips his head to the side when he hears a familiar voice, soft and soothing despite the hint of confusion in it.

“Kanata! Are you alright?” 

He quickly scoots towards his comrade and Ryuseitai’s vice-captain, checking to see if Kanata’s hurt anywhere, arms frantically raising in response and eyes darting towards his face. 

Kanata’s dazed eyes meet his, and he can see his and Kanata’s mutual confusion as his eyes lock with Kanata’s bottomless peridot orbs.

He can see the reflection of his own eyes in Kanata’s, equally bewildered from the unusual circumstances they had unwittingly ended up in. 

“I am “fine”…just a little “confused”…”

Kanata’s voice doesn’t contain its usual carefree lilt as his eyes slowly survey the scene surrounding both of them. 

“I’m not sure how we got here, or what we’re doing here. Do you?”

“No, I am not “sure” about why we are “here” either. More importantly…we must “find” the children.”

Chiaki nods firmly, proceeding to sweep his eyes across the gym in search of the rest of his beloved comrades. 

“I agree! Ah! I see Nagumo over there, and Sengoku just a little ways from him! I’ll go talk to them and see if they can remember anything! I’ll leave Midori to you!”

“Yes. I have “found” Midori.”

Chiaki dashes towards two of his comrades as it finally hits him- everyone was at the graduation banquet and he was performing a final live as a third year student, alongside his fellow third years. They had dedicated their performance to Anzu, only to not be able to perform it towards the very end as halfway through the performance, his vision had blurred, and he remembered everything fading to black. 

A bitter taste swarms his tastebuds and fills his mouth, and he clenches his jaw in anguish a little as he abruptly searches for Anzu. 

His eyes urgently flick across the room for her, and he allows himself a quick, internal sigh of relief when he finally spots her near Trickstar. 

Blood rushes through his ears as he continues dashing to Tetora and Shinobu, a heightened sense of urgency overtaking him. 

“Sengoku! Nagumo! Are both of you okay?!”

Two pairs of eyes rapidly flicker to him, and both boys nod, evidently concerned about their current situation- or predicament. 

“Taichou-dono! It is a relief to see you safe and sound! Have you seen Shinkai-dono and Midori-kun?”

Chiaki notices that most people have regained consciousness, and the gym is buzzing with confused murmuring. He quickly turns to Shinobu and nods.

He opens his mouth to speak, when an authoritative voice ring through the air. 

Hokuto Hidaka sounded calm and composed-as expected of Trickstar’s leader-, speaking without a hint of fear. He was asking if anyone remembered how they arrived in the gym, to which there was a collective shaking of heads.

Other students had started to speak up, with Keito addressing the other students in the gym on when they had passed out. Sure enough, everyone passed out at the graduation banquet. Izumi then crossly comments on the audacity of whoever decided to kidnap and drug them.

A disconcerting sense of unease has pervaded the atmosphere and the air is thick with uncertainty, so Chiaki decides to speak up and attempt to dispel the miasma of fear and confusion that began to cloud the atmosphere.

After declaring that everyone can rely on him to go up against their captors (without directly declaring himself as a hero) he listens to what others have to say. 

Not that he wanted to settle this with violence. If possible, he’d like to negotiate with their captors, but first things first.

A student -Arashi Narukami from Knights- brings up a valid question- why would someone kidnap the students, only to bring them back to their school?

Chiaki’s about to start wondering about that, when Anzu opens the gym doors and a stream of -radiant, too radiant- sunlight floods the room. 

But what captured Chiaki’s attention the most wasn’t the warm sunlight that somehow didn’t seem natural. 

It was the body of water that surrounded the school from all sides, as if it were an isolated island in the middle of nowhere after the sea had engulfed everything excluding their school, dragging it to the bottom of the ocean. 

There was no way everything surrounding their school could be wiped out in the duration the students were out cold- wasn’t that from merely last night? And wouldn’t people be coming to rescue them? Where were the people and the buildings? There was also no way the school could’ve been uprooted and dumped smack bang in the middle of nowhere. 

Absurd things like that would only happen in Chiaki’s treasured sentai shows.

In contrast to his racing mind and the wave of anxiety that begun to overwhelm him, Kanata seemed perfectly calm and content, and was suggesting that everyone should “bubble, bubble” in the ocean. 

After Anzu announces the existence of an electronic device in her pocket, the gym erupts into engrossed discussion and interest, and everyone reaches into their pockets to take a look at what’s in them. 

Chiaki reaches for his device, staring at it incredulously. 

He’s not sure what it is, but little does he know that he doesn’t have to wait long to find out since a somewhat mechanical voices pierces the air.

As everyone gapes at the source of the voice -which is what Chiaki assumes is a robotic stuffed toy- incredulously, it refers to the devices as everyone’s electronic student ID card, Chiaki whips around to face the direction where the voice came from.

He’s not sure what he expected, but he certainly hadn’t expected to see a robotic, talking stuffed toy with an air about it that was more than antagonistic.

Knots form in Chiaki’s stomach as the creature continues to emanate a sinister aura.

There’s an abrupt pause before the gym is filled with questions fired towards the stuffed toy relentlessly and consecutively. 

Chiaki hears one of Rei’s unit mates snarling at the bear, and what stands out the most to Chiaki in the next few minutes of discussion is a certain word that Chiaki has grown to despise after vowing to himself that he’d inherit the spirit of justice. 

No, he’s hated the word ever since he was a child- a child who was raised to know right from wrong, nurtured by his loving parents and the heroic spirit behind the sentai shows he’s watched. 

But more than anything, what fills him is fear. He’s frozen in fear. Raw fear that causes the blood to completely drain from his face. Alarm that causes his stomach to drop all the way to his feet, disbelief consuming his very being.

A fear that’s mutated from a mere foreboding feeling in the atmosphere, spreading into his body from the air after biding its time and gradually absorbing all the miasma and evil in the world that it could, like a mass of destructive energy that threatens to tear his world-and composure- apart. 

Dread and fear burn their way through his body like dry ice, coursing through his veins and every fibre of his being, continuing to rob him of breath -when had the air been squeezed out of his lungs?

Just what does that stuffed bear mean? And why? Just why does he wants the students -beacons of hope with a promising future ahead of them- to participate in a “game” of Mutual Killing to escape?

Their lives weren’t to be toyed with! Anger bubbles up in his stomach and boils red-hot through his very being, but he mustn’t let the blood get to his head and takes a deep breath, controlling himself- he doesn’t want to cause Kirakuma to do anything to the students around him and he himself. 

All Chiaki hears is panicked protests, scared screams, anguished yells and cries of despair. 

He hears Tetora speak up and a small spark of pride for his junior ignites in him, only to quickly extinguish itself upon his concern for his junior-despite everything about justice and heroics he’s taught them, he cynically and bitterly thinks to himself and about himself- only to find that the wretched Kirakuma doesn’t seem to be paying Tetora any attention. 

A short while ago, like everyone, Chiaki had no clue what was going on and was having a hard time believing everything.

But now, as tearful, desperate, fearful voices ring through the air in a discordant mess, Chiaki has no choice but to believe that the twisted Kirakuma -or more specifically, whoever’s controlling it- is serious about wanting the boys to commit deplorable, despicable, depraved, downright heinous crimes.

Amidst the chaos, Chiaki can hear various expressions of horror and despair.

“T-this can’t be real…”

“You’ve got to be kidding…”

“N-no…ahhhhh…”

“You can’t be serious?!”

“I-I can’t take this anymore!!!”

“N-no way…”

“Nooooo!! I don’t wanna die!”

“Get me out of here, get me out, get me out…”

“This is just some kinda elaborate prank, right?!”

“I just wanna go home…”

His thoughts flashed to Kanata, Shinobu, Midori and Tetora, and then to Kurou, Kaoru, Izumi, his other friends and the other students he’d come to know over his years in Yumenosaki.

All those years where he had his dreams nearly crushed, so many of his hopes dashed, and where he’d shed so much blood, sweat and tears. Yet, he'd finally managed to make those dreams (and so much more he'd never thought he'd have and achieve) come true. 

That's why Chiaki just couldn’t believe it. There was no way anyone had to kill one of their fellow students, then sacrifice everyone else through an execution by deceiving them and making them incorrectly guess the culprit's identity in a "class trial". And only then could the killer escape. 

But this was their reality now. 

The only thing he could do was try to save everyone. 

\---

Any flicker of hope of saving every single person had been extinguished the moment Kirakuma did something so unforgivable to Anzu. 

Anzu, their beloved producer who worked herself to the bone, poured so much love into everything she did for everyone and created inseparable bonds with everyone, was dead.

And it was all Kirakuma’s doing. 

Just how much more did that putrid embodiment of evil want Yumenosaki’s students to suffer? How many more lives had to be taken before it was satisfied?

Chiaki wasn’t intending to find out. 

He had to get everyone out, and get them out fast. 

He clenched his fists in anguish and silently mourned over Anzu’s body, then opened his eyes in renewed determination a second later.

Anzu didn’t sacrifice herself only to have more deaths following hers. 

Chiaki would carry Anzu’s will on for her and protect everyone from Kirakuma’s -or rather, the mastermind’s- clutches of evil. 

Not to mention, it was a hero’s duty to save everyone. To get every single student out safely. 

And he was willing to do that no matter what it takes.

\---

As if having a “first time bonus” that allowed a culprit to escape with another student if they managed to convince everyone they weren’t the culprit wasn't bad enough, discord was starting to sow its seeds amongst the student body. 

If students started to distrust each other, getting everybody out in one piece would pose an even greater challenge that Chiaki knew it would. 

The time to act was now. 

He decides to rally all the students in a group meeting to discuss how they were going to work together and all get out. 

A spark of determination ignites into resolute, burning, red-hot resolve.

\---

When Chiaki sees the note summoning him to a private meeting in the morning, he knows he must hear what the sender had to say. 

Even if it’s an opportune time for the sender to finish him off -so early in the morning, and him having to be alone-, he couldn’t forgive himself if what they had to say might play an integral part in getting everyone out safely.

Even if his safety is compromised from this (much needed) act of recklessness, he doesn’t really mind. He can just leave things up to the rest of Ryuseitai. Kanata, his beloved captain in arms, will be able to overcome anything that happens to him and lead everyone. He’s sure of it. 

Even if what Chiaki does leads to his demise, it’ll be fine as long as everyone else is fine. He promised himself and his comrades that he would succeed in taking up the spirit of Ryuseitai -the spirit of a hero. 

He thinks of how his comrades would be utterly heartbroken: of how Kanata doesn’t like saltwater-especially and specifically that of tears, Chiaki thinks. Of how Takamine -no, Midori- might complain of how he has to do more. Of how Shinobu would feel sad about losing someone who he says is easy to get along with. Of how Tetora would feel disappointed about not being able to learn as much as he could from Chiaki and become a man amongst men. 

He knows that more than anything, they’ll be filled with misery, a gaping chasm of loss and the excruciating pain and anguish of losing a comrade, but he can’t bring himself to really think of that, nor how much he means to them. 

Or how much they’d want him around and how much he wants to be with them.

After all, heroes can’t read the atmosphere nor timing, can they?

\---

 

Before everything goes black after the unspeakably sharp, heavy impact on his back (was he stabbed? He must’ve been, he vaguely reasons), he sees his colour. 

Red. 

Red liquid dripping, then spilling out in a sea of red and pooling all over the ground. 

His own blood, dripping from his own body and spreading all across the stone floor. 

Oh. He’s bleeding.

He begins to realise that the injured student was really just a mannequin, and relief washes over him. 

But shortly after that, realisation really dawns upon him.

He’s been played.

It almost feels like a slap in the face, but he’s glad and flooded with relief when he also realises no one else was hurt.

Despite this, he hates the fact that he realises he was tricked and got relieved that no one was hurt at almost the same time- shouldn’t a hero worry for others much more than this?

The excruciating pain mostly blocks out his ability to think straight but the adrenaline that’s starting to course through his body is making his mind race.

He desperately and agonisingly lifts his head to see who else is around, and finds himself alone. 

Of course. He hadn’t told anyone else about going out to meet anyone; he kept this from Kuro, Mama, Kanata, Midori, and anyone else that he truly trusted. 

He had deliberately ignored the nagging feeling of danger at the back of his mind in favour of trying his best to trust the other students, which is why he can’t get angry at them- after all, he was the reckless, overly trusting one who chose not to rely on his comrades as much as he could. 

As blood continues to seep out of his body, he feels himself getting fainter and fainter quickly. He must’ve been stabbed somewhere pretty fatal.

But the upside of this, he forces himself to think, is that red is a hero’s colour. 

His colour, as Kanata told him, Chiaki mirthlessly joked to himself. 

He tries not to think of how he’s failed in making sure he gets out with everyone. Now that they’ve played into the mastermind’s hands, wouldn’t there be some kind of trial? For someone to want to escape so badly that they just couldn’t trust everyone else enough to cooperate and get out with everyone -couldn’t trust him to lead everyone and get them out- ;is he really that unreliable of a leader? 

Evidently so. If he can’t even protect himself, who else can he protect? 

Just who was he kidding in rallying everyone and saving them? He knew that the mastermind could have a way to keep everyone from escaping, but he’d tried his best -and probably failed- to free them from the mastermind’s clutches. 

His only regret is not being able to escape alongside all of his fellow students -if they could get away from such a horribly scheming mastermind- and for leaving them with whoever was behind this cruel, twisted mess. 

He’s bleeding out fast, and his thoughts are starting to become more and more muddled.

He apologises to his parents for letting his life end so soon, despite all their best efforts to raise him. Moments of watching sentai shows with them and beaming alongside them when they bought him the super sentai figurines he wanted flash through his mind. 

As his vision goes grey and blurs at the edges, the red before him blurring along with it, his mind rapidly goes back to the times he spent with Ryuseitai, Madara and Kuro, despite his head and body getting heavier and feeling foggier.

Midori, Shinobu and Tetora’s gallant stances at Repayment Fes makes tears spring to his eyes even more-he was crying? And what about the promise he made with Kanata that day, on the top of that hill in the setting sun, that they’d stick together through thick and thin and succeed in inheriting the spirit of justice and raising Ryuseitai? They’d raised Ryuseitai together and helped them become fine young men, but what about his promise to Kanata-that he’d come to his rescue whenever Kanata cried out for his help?

Kanata had referred to him as a hero so fondly, but he couldn’t even stay by everyone’s side, could he?

The unforgettable times he spent with Ryuseitai continue to flood back to him in a wave of memories, mixing into sea of memories. Oh yes, the days they spent making children laugh and smile in the park near Yumenosaki academy and in amusement parks. The barbeques they had after live shows, the many live shows, jobs and festivals they had fun in, the effort they spent practicing with each other…

Chiaki feels the corners of his mouth turn up as he remembers how Midori always talked about wanting to die, yet he looked so heroic and determined in Repayment festival. The shy Shinobu slowly gaining confidence and being so optimistic even in the toughest of times, and how Tetora initially didn’t want to properly participate in Ryuseitai’s practices and lives, but eventually began to pull his fellow first years together, remain calm even in stressful situations, then try his best and succeed in inheriting the spirit of justice alongside them. 

Even though he notices the pool of blood turning further turning into a red sea as blood continues to reminisce, he smiles as he remembers the day he reached out to Kanata and pulled him out from a cold, lonely, distant sea of stars and how Kanata slowly started to feel like a part of Ryuseitai.

He was glad he made at least one person’s dream come through- Kanata didn’t have anyone he could truly call a family in the truest sense of the word, as Madara had told him, and from what Chiaki knew of how he spoke of his family. 

When Kanata pulled him into his house, his eyes seemed distant and empty despite the uncommon glimpses Chiaki got of his interactions with his parents, which were few and rather far in between. 

But Kanata’s eyes became fonder, gentler and warmer the more he spent time with Ryuseitai. His eyes had started to glow with life, and fill with happiness and so many emotions that Chiaki couldn’t always fathom, but they were warm, soothing and reassuring, just like Kanata was. Chiaki was glad he could fulfil Kanata’s dream just be being there for him instead of leaving him alone, all by himself. 

Ryuseitai had become the family that he and Chiaki raised alongside each other. 

Ryuseitai was Chiaki’s second family. He loved his parents, and he loved Kanata, Tetora, Shinobu and Midori more than he could ever express his love. 

He hopes Kanata, being the kind soul he is, won't blame himself for what happened -or what's about to happen- to him, just because Kanata's his beloved vice captain and they vowed to always be by each other's side.

A dark curtain had started to slip shut before Chiaki; his eyelids were drooping, he realised. 

There certainly was a dark irony in the way that he was escaping from this horrific “game”: by dying while lying on the floor and seeing something like a dark curtain slipping shut, yet desperately heaving itself up, as if signalling the end of his life and his time in this wretched setting. 

After all, it was just like how he woke up into this nightmarish situation- lying on the floor while seeing the dark curtain that was his eyelids lifting yet shutting, signalling the beginning of his time in this twisted game- as if the mastermind was a playwright toying with everyone’s lives from the very beginning they woke up in this sickening “game”. 

He felt his breaths slowing down and becoming shallower. He was cold and tired, which was numbing his fear of dying. This was his reality right now. He yearned to shine with Kanata and continue as a five-man squad once the kids -no, they might as well be men now- graduated, but he’d let them down. His brain started to churn out its last thoughts foggily. 

“I’m so sorry, mum and dad…Kanata…please forgive me. Please forgive this unreliable hero. Please continue... to make Ryuseitai shine…protect the children we…raised…

I love… all of you and…I’ll be watching over you…guys…

in the stars…as one…good…bye…”

Right after his final thoughts overtook his mind, a small smile graced his bloodstained face as the light went out of his eyes and they closed one last time. He could feel death's cold, dragging, unrelenting grip tightening around him as fatigue continued to drag him under.

He tried to open his eyes in one last desperate bid to somehow stay alive, but he knew he was fighting a losing battle. 

One last breath slips out from his lips, and his body fully slumps onto the ground.


	2. Drowning in a Sea of Emotion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kanata struggled to breathe, like a fish out of water. He was trying his best to contain his emotions despite the raging waves of emotions threatening to rip apart every seam that was struggling to hold him together. 
> 
> He promised the children of Ryuseitai that he and Chiaki would form an embankment that would protect them when the sea’s waves become strong and merciless. But now, without the warmth of the sun that gave this planet life, Kanata would just be dragging them into a cold, cold sea that would freeze their hearts.

Kanata’s eyes widened in absolute disbelief, devastation and horror at the grisly, heart-wrenching sight before him as his knees dropped to the floor. His mind screamed that this couldn’t be real, this couldn’t have happened, this must be some kind of sick prank…but he knew that wasn’t the case in such a situation. 

He felt his heart sink like a ship struggling to stay above the waves of the sea in a turbulent storm, along with his knees that had dropped to the ground. 

His captain…the captain of heart. His Chiaki. How could he let this happen? How could he answer to Chiaki and the children of Ryuseitai now? 

Just what kind of vice captain, let alone hero, was he? 

Of course, the ever too kind Chiaki would never blame anyone for anything that happened to him, a voice within Kanata made its input at the back of his mind. 

Kanata shut it up.

He didn’t care about what excuses his mind might provide. He, as Chiaki’s vice captain who promised him they’d succeed to inherit the heroic, justice-oriented spirit of Ryuseitai and raise Ryuseitai, should’ve been by his side.

He should’ve been by Chiaki’s side to protect him. 

When Kirakuma made that dreaded announcement on how to escape the school, Kanata immediately felt a sea of emotions engulf him. 

Fear. Horror. Dread, and so much more. 

But he knew he had to protect Chiaki, Ryuseitai, and the rest of the Oddballs. 

Who knew that he’d fail so quickly?

A suffocating feeling filled his chest, his throat tightened and he couldn’t breathe.

He felt as if he was a fish above water. 

He was a fish above water. He didn’t belong on land, yet the person who gave him a chance here and was there for him when the Oddballs were crushed had been torn away from him. 

As he hears Shinobu start to sniffle, Tetora attempting to stifle his sobs and Midori’s breath catch in his throat, his chest tightens even further and his eyes burn. 

They’re burning and his vision is blurring, but he fights with himself to hold them back for the children’s sake. 

They’re burning, just like Chiaki’s tears and touch.

They’re burning, just like Chiaki’s ever-burning spirit of justice, his determination to save everyone but himself and become a hero.

Kanata doesn’t like saltwater. But he has a feeling that he shouldn’t be telling the children that now, especially since he doesn’t have the right to do so when he failed to do what was enough to stop the children from crying about what happened to Chiaki, which was so simple: he just had to protect Chiaki. 

But he’d failed to do that, and it was too late for any regrets now- not like he had a right to regret, when he could’ve easily protected Chiaki and watched over him in the way Chiaki watched over Ryuseitai. 

Still, he couldn’t let anything bad happen to the children they’d raised together.

If he did that, he’d just be wasting Chiaki’s efforts, and he had to do everything to protect what Chiaki had left for this world- the last parts of himself that remained on this cruel earth. 

Kanata took a deep, shuddering, agonising breath in an attempt to think more clearly and make him look like he was regaining his composure.

Just how would Kanata raise these precious children on his own? He promised Chiaki he’d raise Ryuseitai alongside him and he told the children they’d be raised and protected between the warm sun and the sea. He promised them that he and Chiaki would form an embankment that would protect them when the sea’s waves became strong and merciless, threatening to sweep them off their feet and pull them into it.

And without the warmth of the sun that gave this planet life, Kanata would just be dragging them into a cold, cold sea that would freeze their hearts. 

His cold, cold sea.

The heat of the sun, sent by the warm rays radiating from it, was able to give the planet life. Without it, nothing would survive…nothing that was human, anyway. 

No. Kanata would not let this earth feel more lonely . He would not undo Chiaki’s hard work and let yet another part of Chiaki leave this earth. And the part of Kanata that was pretending to be human weakly whispered that most importantly, he loved the children he bonded with, the children who he shared smiles and both tough and fun times together with…the children he painstakingly raised alongside Chiaki with everything they had to give, no matter how painful and tough times got.

The glaring pool of red on the ground taunted him, as if chanting “red is Chiaki’s colour, the colour of a hero”, over and over again. 

Kanata should’ve made sure that it stayed as a part of Chiaki, inside him- and not spilled out onto the ground like this.

Chiaki didn’t have to make his mission to rescue everyone a mainly one-man mission. Kanata would never blame him, but he wished Chiaki depended on him more. He would’ve been more than happy to help. He would’ve been more than happy to continue basking in the warmth Chiaki had to offer, for their fingers to remain intertwined with each other’s- Chiaki’s burning ones and his ice-cold ones. It made the perfect temperature for both of them. 

Chiaki’s burning spirit and his calmer one made a good balance, an ideal environment to raise the children up in. 

For life on earth to continue, living beings needed both warmth and water- not just one of those without the other. 

Besides, the warm rays of the sun were what allowed the sea to have most of the lives teeming within it. The sea could only bask in that warmth and let the light illuminate its endlessly deep trenches and unfathomable depths. 

And the sun was a star after all, but all stars eventually stop shining.

So it was ironic -yet painfully fitting in the most twisted way- that Chiaki would be watching over them as a twinkling star and amongst them. Since Chiaki was the sun that warmed the cold, frigid, icy ocean that was his heart, being amongst the stars was rather fitting for Chiaki too.

But not this way. 

If he was going to continue shining this way, if he was going to shine like a star sending out the biggest burst of light it would ever release and start dimming…Kanata didn’t want it.

He just wanted his Chiaki, as selfish as that was.

His Chiaki, who was just a boy, a regular human on the inside. His Chiaki, who would sometimes cry on his shoulder, away from the children and everyone else when things didn’t work out and times got especially tough. His Chiaki, who always put a brave face in front of his juniors…their juniors, and gave everything he could for everyone, even his own life. No matter how worried he was and how much he struggled behind the scenes, he always tried to look as noble as he could before Ryuseitai’s children, even if his weaknesses, fears and anxiety slipped out at times.

Ironically, the part of Chiaki that lead to him sacrificing himself; the part that made him willing to give his life up to protect everyone and do anything for them, was probably what made him reach out to Kanata.

To care for him, to be by his side, to hold his hand and make sure this sea monster didn’t retreat back to dwell in the dark depths of the sea.

The sun’s radiant warm had repelled the sea monsters at the bottom of the sea and prevented them from ever reaching the surface, but once it was gone, the monsters would come out and drag everything on the land into the sea. 

Now, the sea had to fight itself to keep them down. 

If Ryuseitai was in a boat sailing on the ocean, the turbulent times and treacherous waters brought on by this ghastly situation would give everyone on the boat a hard time. 

And without its captain, survival would be hard and keeping everyone else’s morale up would be harder.

Kanata needed answers. Forcing himself to turn towards the rest of Ryuseitai and face them, he took in their miserable, anguished faces and knew Shinobu, Midori and Tetora did too. 

Even if he didn’t deserve to lead them, he still wanted to protect these children. He knew they needed some kind of closure even before what that repulsive Kirakuma called the “class trial” started, not to mention that searching Chiaki’s room might help bring him and the murderer to justice. 

And sometimes, justice wasn't merciful-it didn't have to be. 

Kanata noticed Tetora trying to bring Shinobu some comfort, and decided that he didn’t want to subject the children to any more pain. Going to their captain’s room might have the effect of adding salt to their wounds, and a part of Kanata wanted to protect the children from whatever (even more) harrowing truth he might find. Even without Chiaki, he still desperately wanted to protect the children with the (broken) embankment that they’d built together facing the wrath of stormy seas. 

Even so, another part of him knew that they’d have to and want to confront the truth sooner or later, and he wanted to start with Midori. He’d shared the same room as Chiaki and was probably stuck on what to do next and wallowing in self-hatred, and Kanata wanted to pull him out of the murky depths of his misery, not stir up a storm and force the waves to push him further into the abyss. 

Besides, going into the room Chiaki and Midori shared without Midori would probably convey a lack of trust, mild disregard for privacy and be like a slap in the face to him since they should probably work as a team in this kind of situation (even though Tetora and Shinobu certainly needed some time to ease their pain right now). Especially because this involved the death of their leader.

Kanata shook his head to clear it of the unnecessary thoughts it was generating. His mind was like a ship in a ruthless storm with raging waves and a fog that obscured his view of what was in the distance. Every thought was like (much needed) rain that pelted down relentlessly, and the waves roared as if in protest. 

He was made from the ocean, but right now it was giving itself a hard time, causing disquiet below the surface, and affecting those it was supposed to protect. 

He didn’t want to awaken the monsters and cause them to stir, but he couldn’t do nothing either. 

But he knew he was overthinking things, and it was time to spring to action.

There was no use shedding saltwater -despite spending all this time holding it in-, he told himself. 

Chiaki was the thread holding the scraps of fabric that was his soul and will together, uniting all the parts of himself that were in conflict and giving himself one goal- to find the culprit. 

His limbs carried his vessel (as tormented and torn and filled with too much that he couldn’t comprehend yet so empty at the same time) to Midori and asked him whether he could investigate in their dorm, stating that he thought there might be clues there. 

He was trying his best to contain his emotions despite the raging sea of emotions threatening to spill over and rip apart every seam that was struggling to hold him together. He hoped that wasn’t obvious to Midori, but it probably was. He had tried not to let his voice tremble like a ripple across the ocean’s surface, instead opting to show nothing but a still surface. 

Midori agreed, and they made their way to the room he shared with Chiaki. Kanata decided to ask Midori whether he’d noticed anything out of place last night, but Midori just said that Chiaki was energetic and enthusiastic like he always was.

Kanata decided this was one of the times where he shouldn’t try to uphold Chiaki’s heroic image he always insisted to have upheld in front of the juniors. He simply told Midori that Chiaki tends to keep things that were hard to deal with to himself, in an attempt to give reasoning to why he decided to persist in searching Chiaki’s room.

Kanata made sure to leave no stone unturned. Everything he laid his eyes on (that also just had to have a place in creating some of the fondest memories he’d made with Chiaki, with Ryuseitai) threatened to make his tears spill and made the painfully pressing weight in his chest and throat grow, but he fought to hold himself together in front of Midori. 

He made sure to be as thorough as he could, checking under the bed and the sheets, Chiaki’s wardrobe and all the furniture and space in Chiaki’s side of the room. Despite this, he came up with nothing, and could feel his already sinking heart dropping down from his stomach to his feet like an anchor. If his heart was a ship tethered to it, he didn’t feel stabilised- just at his wit’s end and unsure of what else to do. 

As a last resort, he decided to check the inside of Chiaki’s pillow case. His eyes widened when his something met his fingers. 

As if grasping onto the last ray of hope, Kanata tightened his grip around it and pulled it out, reading its contents out loud.

It was a note asking Chiaki to meet the writer at 7:45 am, before the meeting Chiaki organised to discuss the escape plan. The writer specified that they needed to discuss something urgent with him, and Chiaki shouldn’t let anyone see the note.

Wasn’t 7:45am at or near the time of Chiaki’s death? A rush of white noise filled Kanata’s ears and Midori was saying something, but Kanata couldn’t hear anything. He felt his knees go weak and all the pieces clicked together at the same time everything (or was it he?) fell apart.

Time and the atmosphere felt like they were frozen, and Kanata couldn’t hear anything but the screaming in his shattered mind. Something inside him had broken when he saw the state Chiaki was in, but now the cracks were spreading across the glass vessel that was his body. 

He thought that after seeing Chiaki’s lifeless, cold body, nothing else would hurt, but what was this overwhelmingly saddening, excruciating feeling gripping his entire chest and stealing his breath away from him?

The waves of misery that overwhelmed him had started swirling into a whirlpool of emotions that he couldn’t fight against. He was getting sucked into a vortex of emotions that he couldn’t escape from, and his eyes burned. His vision was blurring -did Chiaki’s, during his final moments, too?- , but he desperately read the note over and over again, as if that could do anything to save Chiaki. He saw that his fingers were shaking, but he was feeling so much at once that he could hardly discern anything except for the pain spreading in his chest and throat. 

At first, he couldn’t say anything- his tongue was frozen. But now, words spilled out within him before he could even control himself or realise it. He didn’t have the strength nor will to hold himself back anyway. He’d already showed how pathetic he was in front of his juniors, he vaguely thought, so it didn’t matter. 

He found himself asking why Chiaki was so gullible -no, so trusting to the point that he was reckless-, always so frustratingly selfless, why he chose to shoulder everything on his own, refused to ask others for help or tell them what was truly going on, why he had to be so foolish…

His ears felt like they had been padded with cotton, -sound couldn’t travel well in water anyway, so why could he hear the roar of water in a colossal whirlpool?- but he heard a voice that sounded so anguished and broken, so loud in the deafening silence and yet so weak, raspy and quiet.

Amongst everything he wanted to know, what he wanted to know the most of all was why he couldn’t be there for Chiaki, couldn’t protect him, couldn’t alert him of what was to come even after knowing the kind of person he was and what dangers he could face.  
His words tumbled out in the form of that broken voice, just as something wet and warm burned a trail down his face.

It did nothing to pull him out of the salty sea of tears he’d submerged himself and drowned in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please continue to support Quella's awesome Danganronpa ES: The End of Yumenosaki Academy fic! 
> 
> Also, free feel to let me know how I wrote the Enstars boys, since I don't have a lot of experience writing the enstars boys, haha. I mainly wrote Houseki no Kuni fics before this one and this is my first Enstars fic :'D
> 
> I'd be really happy if you guys left a comment to tell me what you guys thought. Feedback is very much appreciated c:
> 
> Thank you for reading the second chapter if you've come this far, and free feel to scream about Quella's fic, Dangan Ronpa, Ensemble Stars or both with me at @Shiyumi_Neruka on twitter, shiyumi-neruka on tumblr or here! :D


End file.
